


Let Sleeping Dogs Lie

by Luka z Rivii (wayward_dream)



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: F/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, alternately known as the safety boob fic, geralt can't sleep, just a dumb lil thing i wrote, titties save lives, titty appreciation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:08:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23440681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wayward_dream/pseuds/Luka%20z%20Rivii
Summary: Geralt is restless. You talk and help him calm down enough to sleep.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 94





	Let Sleeping Dogs Lie

Geralt lay on his back, hands laced on his chest and face tipped to the side to watch you sleep. Mouth slack and drooling a bit, your hair a tangled mess, you were hardly breathtaking at the moment. But there was a certain trust displayed in the way you’d fallen so easily asleep with him in your bed, no unease or fear in your scent. And you’d borrowed his shirt to sleep in; it fit you like a short nightgown and made something warm and fond blossom in Geralt’s chest, left him feeling pleased in a way that had nothing to do with lust and everything to do with…..feelings, which he wasn’t so good at articulating.

With your scent in his lungs and you within arm’s reach, he should be content. But he was restless.

This….thing between the two of you had been going on for some time now. It was low-commitment, easy and not something that needed words or promises that would only needlessly complicate what was currently natural and undemanding.

But still. Geralt wondered why you were so….accommodating to him. Wondered what exactly it was that you expected of him, what  _ you  _ thought this was.

Then again, maybe he didn’t want to hear your thoughts on that matter. It was easier to just let things be.

It should have been easier.

Geralt wanted…..wanted….he didn’t know what. He just knew that he  _ wanted, _ ached with a need he didn’t know how to interpret and thus was unable to satisfy. It left him restless and unable to join you in sleep.

He rolled onto his side facing you, the bed creaking at his movements. He pillowed an arm under his head and fixed his eyes on your face.

Went very still when he saw your slitted eyes gazing at him, very clearly half-asleep.

“What is it?” you asked. Your voice was thick with sleep and slurred a bit.

“Nothing,” he grunted. “Go back to sleep.”

You yawned so wide he heard your jaw crack. “Liar. You’ve been tossing and turning since we laid down, and I can practically hear your thoughts.”

“It’s nothing,” he insisted gruffly.

Your eyes drifted closed again but he could sense that he still had your attention. “You know you can tell me anything.”

The words left him curiously aching and wary. “Can I?” he asked. Unsure if he trusted blanket statements that might just be platitudes.

You hummed. “Always.” You cracked an eye to peer at him again. “’S an important part of relationships; communication.”

_ Relationships. _ The word was like a blow to the face that left Geralt reeling as he stared at you. “Is that what this is?” he managed to ask calmly, like his heart wasn’t starting to pulse in his chest, like the answer didn’t matter as much as it did.

“If that’s what you want it to be,” you replied. He thought at first you were being dismissive and he felt a sharp ache like a punch, until he saw the subtle tension tightening your shoulders, caught a hint of anticipation curling through your scent. He realized you were leaving it to him to define the boundaries, and he ached all over again.

“I don’t know what I want,” he admitted quietly. He felt a bit guilty, leaving you hanging, but he wasn’t sure he could give you what you wanted, and he wasn’t going to lead you on with hollow promises. Your eyes shut and you yawned again.

“That’s okay. If you do figure it out, let me know.”

He frowned at you. “What do you mean, ‘it’s okay’?” he demanded. You shrugged one shoulder.

“Just that. I’m not going to force anything, or demand promises you’d be resentful of feeling obligated to keep. This…” you gestured vaguely between yourself and Geralt. “--is enough, for me, as it is.”

“You deserve better than being strung along like that,” he muttered. Curled an arm around himself.

“Mm. I’m content with what I have. Are you?” You watched his face after asking the question, and he could see in your face that the answer mattered more to you than you meant to show him. Geralt couldn’t force the words out. He swallowed. Nodded. Watched a small, pleased smile curve your lips. “Then it’s enough. Now. I’m tired, and it’s time to go to sleep.”

You rolled so your back was to him, repositioning so your back pressed against his chest. Geralt went very still and you huffed. “Relax, Geralt.”

Cautiously, Geralt slid an arm around your waist, not wanting to constrict you or keep you trapped if you wanted to move away. Impatient, you huffed, grabbed his hand where it had come to rest on your belly.

You  _ meant _ to hold it over your heart, be sentimental and intimate.

What happened instead was that he tried to tug his hand out of your grip and it ended up resting on your breast over your nightshirt. Geralt went very still as a shiver went through you. You bit your lip.

Then you repositioned his hand so it slid under the hem of your borrowed shirt so it skimmed over soft skin and came to rest on your bare breast. He sucked in a quiet breath and you hummed softly, leaning back into his chest. His thumb gently slid back and forth along your skin and a soft, pleased sigh went out of you. You noted absently that the tension had drained out of him, he was loose and warm pressed up behind you.

“That’s better,” you murmured. “Now go to sleep.”

The neck of your borrowed shirt was wide enough to leave your shoulder bare, allowing Geralt to nuzzle against it lightly, lips soothing where stubble scraped against your skin. Geralt settled behind you and you heard him sigh quietly, but it was a happy sound. His breathing went slow and even only a minute later, and you smiled to yourself.

You laced your fingers through his and allowed yourself to drift back to sleep, safe and happy in his embrace.


End file.
